In Which Muggle Activism Creates Trouble for Harry
by tarrynot
Summary: AU: Harry has defeated Voldemort with minimal death and carnage and is returning to Hogwarts for his 7th year.  On the way to platform 9 and 3/4, an over-zealous animal rights activist challenges Harry about his owl.


Note: I the only thing I truly own is my body. So not that series of books I based this off of. You know the one.

Note take two: I wrote this years ago. It's been fermenting, but I don't think stories work like wine does. Dag. Onward! This is AU. Pretty much everyone lived in the fight against Voldemort, it only took the summer between 6th and 7th year, and it was much easier and less scaring than it had any right to be. Just like the kiddies' first three years at Hogwarts. Also, I totally made up everything involving animal rights laws and consequences. It's probably a bit unrealistic.

–

Harry was used to the stares. He always got them when he had Hedwig with him in the Muggle train station. Not to mention he was _Harry Potter_. Even in a crowd of Muggles, it seemed like someone always knew who he was. He didn't like the attention, but he supposed that it's what you got when you were the savior of the Wizarding World. Still, it was rather a shock to him when a young man in his late twenties walked up to him, and instead of asking for an autograph, asked Harry for his license.

"My what?" Harry asked, slightly taken aback.

"Your license. For your owl. You need one to keep a wild animal like that, you know. It's the law," the young man answered in a tone that suggested no compromise.

Harry quickly sized the man up, guessing that no wizard would expect a license for what essentially amounted to the post. So that would make him a Muggle. He also guessed that the man was some sort of official, judging by the suit and small black note pad and pen the man had just pulled out. Harry settled for the truth, in lieu of a better plan, "Er - I don't have one." At the man's pointed look and deliberate click of his pen, however, Harry realized that that answer was certainly not what would get him off the hook. He quickly amended, "I - er - left it at home. Clumsy of me actually, it was sitting right next to my broo- uh- car keys and I picked those up without even looking at my...owl license." Harry then trailed off in a rather weak sounding laugh that probably wouldn't have fooled a troll and winced inwardly at his sorry acting. He noted with a hint of nostalgia (and not a small amount of regret, considering his current situation) that his excuse-inventing days of his younger years were rather distant.

The young man fixed Harry with a critical look for a moment and then looked down at his small black note pad. "What's your name, sir?"

"Well, Harry Potter, but-"

"Can I see some ID? Driver's license, perhaps?" It wasn't a question.

Harry was suddenly and conveniently overcome with a fit of violent coughing while he tried think of a way to salvage something decent out of his sad little cover story. He had already said he had car keys. Settling for his usual plan of letting his mouth do his thinking, he said, "Er - well, you won't believe it, but I just lost my driver's license, too. It was actually with my owl license."

"And your national insurance card was with it, I expect," the man said in a deadpan. "Do you know your number?" When Harry shook his head, the man continued, "Do you have any form of identification; credit card, passport, birth certificate, library card...tattoo, anything?"

Harry tried to look apologetic and mournful. "All with the owl license," he said gravely. "We- well not the tattoo, I don't have one of those."

The man looked back down at his notepad and sighed, "Address?"

"Um, I don't really have one right now," which was sort of the truth. He was on his way to his last year of school and didn't honestly think Hogwarts had an address - at least not one that this man would understand.

Again, Harry was fixed with that critical stare. Narrowing his eyes, the man asked, "How did you leave your licenses and documents at home if you don't have an address?"

Kicking himself mentally, Harry quickly and rather stupidly answered, "Well, I meant to say...i- it burned down - my flat, I mean." It took some effort, but he managed to not wince at his excuse.

With a slight shrug, the man continued, "Then I assume there's no land line either. Mobile?"

Harry briefly imagined telling the man to stick his head in a fireplace, but dismissed the idea, as it might be perceived as a threat. "I don't have one of those either, sorry."

With an exasperated sigh the man asked, "How do I even know you're who you say you are? And how am I supposed to get in touch with you?"

_Owl, maybe_, Harry thought petulantly.

The official continued, "Under the law, Mr. Potter, if you have the wild animal in question with you and not the license, then it is under my jurisdiction to give you a fine. I also would like to get in touch with you so that I might see this license and/or your burned down flat, because I have reason to doubt that you even have one...or both. Now, if I have no way to get in touch with you, then I will have to confiscate your owl and have a police officer take you in." The young man raised his chin and crossed his arms with a look that plainly said, "I'll do it, too."

Harry was dumbfounded. "You mean, arrest me? Just for having an owl?"

With a curt nod the man said severely, "Young man, it is a serious offense to keep a wild animal without proper certification. I assume you know that the Snowy Owl is rather susceptible to disease? You're carrying it around in that cage that was obviously meant for a smaller bird in one of the hottest Septembers on record. This bird is not native to this area and it could overheat very easily. I could get you for animal cruelty and negligence, along with not having your license, so I would consider myself lucky if I were you."

Looking up at the clock, Harry realized he had another problem to worry about; the train would be leaving soon. Harry tried to think of a way to get rid of this man quickly without drawing too much attention. He clearly couldn't inconspicuously go through a wall with some Muggle fixated on him. He could obliviate his memory, but he was surrounded by Muggles on all sides...and it would also be very wrong. What he really needed was Hermione and Ron to back him up. Mentally crossing his fingers and not really knowing what he was going to say, Harry began to explain, "Well, sir, I understand the severity of the situation and your obligation to the well-being of the animal, but I can assure you that this owl is in perfectly good care. In fact, she was raised in captivity, so she's really not a wild animal at all. And I am fully certified to care for her. I just lost my license...as I've already told you."

Harry would have continued but at that very moment they were interrupted by Ron. He waived and called jokingly, "Oi, Harry, Have a good summer?" as he knew full well that Harry's summer had involved dangerous Horcrux hunts and battles to the death. He hauled his belongings over and jovially slapped Harry on the back, only then noticing the man and his rather unimpressed expression. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

"I was just telling your friend that it is illegal to keep a wild animal," he gestured to Hedwig and continued, "without proper certification, but he claims that he simply lost it in a fire. Can you vouch for his honesty?"

Ron looked incredulously at Harry, whose eyes simply said, "Yeah, I know." Looking back at the man and thanking Pig silently for being asleep and looking remarkably like a hamster, Ron told the man with more confidence than he felt, "Yes, of course... He's actually a qualified owl trainer. He's even trained a few of them to carry the post. Bloody brilliant, he is. A- and his flat did burn down, too. Horrible fire, took everything, it did. Harry was lucky to get out alive." Obviously thinking he was somehow helping, Ron continued, "He...he had to go back in to get Hedwig. Ran right back into the inferno because he cares for her that much. Really, it just makes my eyes water, thinking about what could have happened to the poor girl..." Ron wiped an eye dramatically as he trailed off for effect.

Harry rolled his eyes hoping Ron's testament wouldn't hurt his case too much. The man simply sneered and raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "Listen, sir - I really don't know how to prove it to you, and we've really got to be going, so could you just let me off with a warning or something?"

This was obviously not the right thing to say to the over-zealous young official. He suddenly looked very wounded and spluttered, "Young man, I have a- a _job_, a _duty_ to this poor creature and even more so, to the noble country of England. That you would think that I would simply forget all of that for your _convenience_ is- is insulting and rude. If there's no way to prove your story, then I'm afraid I have no other choice than to call in a higher authority-"

And in the true tradition of the ludicrous luck that Harry and Ron are often blessed with, Hagrid rounded the corner. It so happened that Muggle activists were out in force that day, and several equally over-zealous members of a semi-militant organization for the ethical treatment of animals were laying in wait for a prolific fashion designer who used animal coats and skins in her clothing. Upon seeing Hagrid in his moleskin coat, a woman threw a bucket of blood on him and started shouting.

Simultaneously many things happened. Hagrid roared his anger and surprise, the woman continued shouting about animal rights, and the young man who had been interrogating Harry was suddenly swept away in a flurry of commotion. Taking advantage of the distraction, Harry nudged Ron and jerked his head toward Platform 9¾. They surreptitiously made their escape and left the man spattered in blood, deeply flustered, and very angry with himself for letting his prey go.

Once on the platform, Harry and Ron ran into Hermione, who began in a very long-suffering manner, "Where have you two been? The train is about to leave." Not waiting for an answer, she ushered them forward, "Let's just get on."

When they were settled, Harry began at the beginning to enlighten both Ron and Hermione.

At various points in his story Ron or Hermione would interject with things like, "Bloody hell, Harry, you really are bad at excuses these days," or "Wizards really should be more careful, not knowing Muggle laws the way most don't. Honestly Harry, I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner."

Only when they reached the end of the story did they realize that they had left Hagrid, and all his loveable yet tactless ways, to contend with several irate Muggles, his favorite coat dripping in blood, and some very frightened first years (apparently someone at Hogwarts had realized that someone really should be there to direct Muggle-born first years onto Platform 9¾). After a good laugh, sweets from the trolley, and a game of exploding snap, Ron fell asleep against the window and Hermione against his arm. Looking at them, Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him and thought of how much worse things could have turned out. He thought of how much they all could have lost - things they had all taken for granted. Before this sobering thought could go much further, however, Hedwig hooted softly, bringing Harry out of his reverie.

"Oh, you want some attention, do you?" he said softly. He gave her a treat and began scratching her head through the bars. With a sigh he told his long-time friend, "All is well," and fell asleep to the steady rocking of the train.


End file.
